


together but alone

by mintgreyashes



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Character Death, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Family, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Tony Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-11-02 04:04:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20616215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintgreyashes/pseuds/mintgreyashes
Summary: "I couldn't save him. I couldn't save Tony."The words taste like ash. All he can see is the blood painting his hands like a canvas-an artwork of chaos and sin.But May's fingers are soothing, threading into his hair gently as she presses a kiss to his temple. It's an action he is familiar with, but he knows, deep down, that for May...It's a lifetime ago since she has had to care for a child.And for that, he couldn't help but feel betrayed; for Tony had left him in this world he no longer recognised.orIn the aftermath of Endgame and Tony's sacrifice, Peter comes home to May.And they grieve.Together.





	together but alone

  
There is a familiarity in the streets, and a calmness that settles right over his sore muscles and weary bones.

A flickering of a shop sign, the glow of the streetlights over quiet roads—everything about it screams Queens.

This is his home.

And yet, Peter _kn__ows. _

It isn't. It really, _really _isn't.

And it hadn't been, not for the past five years. Not anymore. Not since he had been snapped away, not since he had left for Titan.

He swallows then, standing in front of the door of his once-home, because _is__ this really still his home, _and doesn't fight the welcoming blanket of apathy that settles over the cold numbness in his mind.

Because maybe then, he can pretend that all is still right in the world.

And he can think of it as a _game _as he brushes off the way he _notices _the abandoned shops; fine layers of dust resting on counter-tops, worn from the passage of time.

And _if-_

Maybe if he wishes hard enough, he can pretend to hold a _semblance _of control, even when every part of him is crumbling away under the crushing weight of _reality._

Perhaps then, he can delude himself into thinking that maybe this unfamiliar landscape had simply been borne out of a lapse in memory, instead of just accepting the concrete truth of what it _truly_ meant.

_Y_ _ou wouldn't forget. You couldn't possibly. _

He detests that part of his mind, sometimes; always logical and cold and uncaring of the turbulence that sweeps him off-balance.

Because it's true. He _can'__t._

_Every part of y_ _ou and May_ _'s lives_ _, it happened right here. _

And-

_May._

The name brings a new wave of _pain, _because god, _how much time had he already lost with her?_

He knows the answer well.

Five years.

The words repeat themselves like a mantra in his head, and he bites back a sob, resisting the urge to just crumple to the ground and _cry,_ right in front of the apartment that he once called _home. _

And this... _This_ situation is familiar. The feeling of helplessness.

Peter trembles, because all he sees is the ash of the battlefield and hears the remnants of the snap before all his thoughts fill with _Tony _and _h__ow could you do this to me?_

Because _Tony _had slipped away from his grasp like sand in an hour glass as well. Their time had stolen from them because of a single _snap._

Five years, he thinks, is a _cruel_ amount of time being snatched right out from his hands.

And there is a truly selfish part of him that thinks that maybe _Tony _is a cruel person through and through as well- bringing him back only to _leave him alone _in this big, ugly world he no longer recognises.

And right as Peter _crumbles, _right as he falters, the vulnerability swallowing him whole-

_The door swings open._

And- _"May." _Her name escapes his lips with a whoosh of breathlessness, because _maybe-_

A part of him hopes.

_Please. Please tell me you've stayed the same._

May startles, freezing almost like a deer in headlights, before her expression crumples.

"Oh, Peter..." Her voice is soft.

Familiar.

_Solemn._

And that tiny, budding and flickering hope is promptly crushed.

Because May...

May looks the same as she always does, beautiful and young but _no, she is not __the same, no longer the m̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ aunt he loves with every part of his soul._

The thought comes to him with a startling clarity, leaving ice in the pits of his stomach.

And he sees the tell-tale signs of time in the tired edge of her wobbly smile, and the faint wrinkles in the corners of her red-rimmed eyes.

_May Parker hadn't been snapped away._

And he knows that she must have seen _something _in his searching gaze, because she pulls him into a tight hug the moment he lets out an anguised cry.

"I'm sorry." He barely manages to chokes out, the numbness in his chest melting away to something that of regret and heartache and _desperation_. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

But May's fingers are soothing, threading into his hair gently as she presses a kiss to his temple. It's an action he is familiar with, but he _knows, _deep down, that for May...

It's a lifetime ago since she has had to care for a child.

He swallows down another sob, the edges of his vision blurring as he sputters, almost deliriously. "I couldn't... I couldn't save him. I couldn't save _Tony."_

And the words taste like ash. All he can see is the _blood, _painting his hands like a canvas—an artwork of chaos and _sin._

The edges of his vision darken dangerously, and the tentative panic is enough to have him clawing at his chest because _he can't breathe _and he doesn't want to _remember._

_In._

_Out._

_In._

_Out._

Almost like Tony's last few dying breaths, raspy and desperate and-

_It's not real._

The crushing pressure intensifies, dragging him deeper and deeper down into the murky depths of unconsciousness.

His breathing comes in tiny, stuttering breaths now, wispy like crumbling walls and flaking wallpapers.

And-

"Breathe, Peter..."

Soothing hands run through his hair again, calming as they quell the pandemonium borne from the demons in his head.

From Tony.

"That's right... Deep breathes, kid- _Peter.__"_ And when his breathing halts again at the word -because kid was what _Tony _had called him- and god, May _understands. _

"It's okay, sweetheart. Take your time."

And May's voice is so gentle_, _so fragile, that even through the indistinguisable haze between reality and delirium, he feels _warmth _for the first time in a long, long time.

But by the time he manages to snatch back even the _slightest_ hint of control, the first rays of dawn are already peeking out from the horizon, encompassing the apartment in a snug orange glow.

It's another new day.

Just like that.

He lets another last, final tear slip, feeling that odd heaviness sink in yet again, but even when he's still _hurting, _even when the pain is still so raw—Peter is _done._

He's too drained to even fathom the thought of even shedding another tear at the solemn finality of another sunrise.

That time moves on, with or without _him._

But-

"Hi." May smiles, awkward and familiar all the same. Her fingers are still entangled with his, and he feels the slightest of trembling in them.

"Hi, May." He croaks out, and finds it in himself to smile, to sate the admiration he has for this _amazing_ woman in front of him. "I'm home."

And he doesn't say a word when May's eyes fill with tears as she pulls Peter into another crushing hug.

"I love you so much, you know that?" She whispers, with words are filled with _so much _that—

It's _okay, _he realizes then, as May presses yet another kiss to his temple.

Because even though Tony is gone, Peter, for the first time since he had came back, finally _understood._

_This _ _was why he did it_ _, wasn't it?_

And his eyes blur with angry tears, because god, that was just like him, wasn't it?

For him to be _happy. _

For him to _come home _to where he belonged.

Loved.

_You're selfish, you know that?_

But the bittersweet warmth in his heart dulls the pain, little by little. The realisation that he had _mattered _to _him._

"I love you too, May." He presses his head into her shoulder, voice thick with emotion. "So, so much. More than anything else in this world."

Because in the end, he's _thankful_ for this second chance. _Thankful _that he hadn't been forgotten.

_And..._

_Thank you, Tony._

It's not easy, he knows, to say goodbye. To heal. But tomorrow is another day, and if fate allows it, they'll meet again.

So today, he finds it in himself to take the first step.

_I love you too._

And he says farewell.


End file.
